


i'm lovin' it

by onamelancholyhill



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onamelancholyhill/pseuds/onamelancholyhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was always a sybarite. He loved good food and dreamed to be a chef. Although, he ended up being an accountant. And buying Happy Meals for his obnoxious co-workers, even when he despised McDonalds. However, when he entered the place that particular day he hardly knew a pair of green eyes and a shameful misunderstanding would be turning his life upside down…</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm lovin' it

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first fanfiction written in English, and if I'm honest... my first fanfiction at all.
> 
> It started being a "thank you" from the bottom of my heart to all my followers in Tumblr ([here's my account](http://onamelancholyhill.tumblr.com)) when I reached the 10K ones (number I never thought I'd ever reach) and then it escalated until this point. Of course, I cannot believe that I did it.
> 
> But I couldn't without these awesome people I want to thank specially and hug forever: [Louise](http://princessofliechtenstein.tumblr.com/) and [Kelly](http://caswouldratherbehere.tumblr.com/), the best fandom friends and betas ever. I seriously wouldn't be publishing this without you two. And the awesome [Guu](http://guusana.tumblr.com) for the amazing piece of art she drawn for me, and the support she gives to me in general. Thanks for every single follower of mine in Tumblr and Twitter for your infinite support and love, and for making my fandom life a real treasure.

Castiel Novak was a sybarite. He was a tax-accountant as well, and numbers were what provided him a salary every month, but if he had to be honest with himself (something that didn’t happen too often), he would have chosen to be a chef. He liked food; he enjoyed eating, but mostly experimenting with ingredients, tasting new flavors and savoring every meal or beverage that came his way.

Sometimes he turned on the television to the _Food Network_ and pretended he was one of the cooks in front of the screen, teaching nobodies like him how to be exquisite and refined, and how to make a piece of art out of a pair of potatoes and a slice of cheese. Yes, Castiel was an adult person, no doubt about that, but he was definitely sure that this didn’t prevent him from daydreaming.

Apart from that, Castiel Novak was a regular guy. He enjoyed sunrises and sunsets, walking barefoot as much as possible, he felt an irrational love for his old trench-coat… and bees. Castiel loved bees,  _"because of honey,”_ he would answer as a justification. He was a little socially awkward, but even like that he managed to have some friends and keep connected with a couple of siblings and cousins that liked him back. His co-workers appreciated him enough to invite him to group meetings and reunions, and they certainly knew how picky he was in regards of food.

This is why that day, at lunch time, after they asked him for that particular task, Castiel wondered how wrong he has been about their whole relationship and mutual respect for the last couple of years.

"Castiel, I know you won’t like this, darling, but I need you to go to McDonalds and bring us 7 Happy Meals," Charlie said, as if it were nothing, keeping a pokerface.

Truth was that Castiel hated McDonalds. As much as Garfield hated Mondays, that level of hatred. It was exactly the opposite of what he loved, the enemy of his dreams, the antonym of food. And Charlie certainly knew that.

"Are you kidding me, Miss Bradbury?" Castiel asked trying to maintain his composure.

"Of course I’m not,  _Mister Novak,_ ” she answered, grinning like a kid.

That infuriated Castiel even more.

"I reckoned you knew that I am not inclined to go to that place," Castiel replied, as calm as his temperament allowed him to be.

"I  _reckon_  that, but you’re the only one who has finished his tasks already. You’re free while the rest of us are still prisoners, balancing shit, and we need our combos like we need air,” she concluded, offering him a piece of paper.

"What is this?" Castiel asked, resigned.

"It’s our order, every detail, with the list of toys we want and everything," Charlie said, grinning again.

 _"Toys?"_  Castiel wondered, completely puzzled. “Aren’t toys for kids?”

Charlie looked at Castiel as if the question has personally offended her.

“Toys are for everybody, Castiel. Didn’t you see my desk?” Castiel glanced at it and realized she was right. Charlie had more or less ten different action figures placed in every free corner of her desk. Castiel couldn’t identify who any of them were, though. “And if that’s not enough for you, we all want the toys for our inner children to play,” she added, completely proud of what she was saying.

Castiel looked down and read the list, not understanding a single word of what was written there. He re-read twice, trying to comprehend, while Charlie looked at him anxiously. The silence between them was starting to be awkward.

"What language is this? Did an infant write it? It’s impossible to read," Castiel wondered.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “It’s English, dumbass,” she pointed out, “and Gabriel wrote it.”

Castiel should have known it, that dreadful calligraphy could only belong to him.

“What’s a  _chiwoca_? Miss Bradbury, it has no sense to me at all. I would suggest you send someone else, or if you insist on me, I could go to the restaurant three blocks from here. They make an excellent roast beef with smashed potatoes that you would love…”

"STOP!" Charlie screamed and Castiel left his mouth open and his eyes wide while she continued talking. "Are you telling me this for real? You’re having a panic attack, dude. It shouldn’t be like this, you’re an adult man! Anyway…I get you have a sophisticated palate and all that jazz but I couldn’t care less about it right now. We want our  _Star Wars_  toys, and our cheeseburgers with Coke and fries. That’s only sold on McDonalds, and you’re the only one that is able to bring them to us right now. Two weeks ago, if you remember, I acceded to go to that Mexican dinner with you. The food almost burned my throat, it was spicy, man, but I went cause I like you, so you should put your prejudgments aside for once and bring me my Princess Leia doll, thank you very much.”

Once she finished, Castiel remembered he had his mouth open and connected his brain to his body in order to close it. He noticed the rest of the office had stopped working and were watching them, completely in awe, enjoying the whole thing. Kevin, the kid, was even laughing.

"Stop losing your time, Novak, or I will discount it from your salary next month," a new voice said and made Castiel heart constrict. Naomi, his boss, the Manager of his Department was looking at him with killer eyes. "Go and bring us our lunch, and don’t forget my Han Solo."

"I don’t even know what that means!" Castiel complained, sighing.

"You only have to know that he is a very handsome man," Anna Milton added. She was the Sales Manager of the company and one of his friends, but apparently today everybody was against him. She rose from her desk and walked Castiel to the door, passing him the trench-coat. She opened the door and gave him an envelope. "Lunch’s on me,” she said and smiled.

There was no chance for Castiel to be saved; he would be in the palace of unhealthy comestibles in no time… He started walking outside, when suddenly Charlie screamed his name again. At first he was thrilled for her to change her mind, but as he was often reminded, he was too naive for his own good.

"Since you’re really obtuse with pop culture and you have no idea what Star Wars is, please give the paper I gave you to someone who actually can read it. Don’t make a mess," she grinned, enjoying the whole situation. "And it’s not a  _chiwoca_ , it’s  _Chewbacca_ ,” she winked at him and Castiel sighed again as a proof of disappointment.

Charlie closed the door and then there he was, alone in the hall, with the envelope in one hand and the paper in the other. Once in the street, he realized it was snowing and he sneezed.

"Amazing," he said, once he was walking downtown, tucking himself in the trench-coat.

While he was walking, he waved as much amiable as he could at all the people he knew: Garth the guy from the drugstore, Bobby the owner of the garage (he saved his car multiple times, and was a great guy), Jodi the police officer who took care of the zone, and Benny, the bear in the shape of a human who attended the café. Castiel was not a people person, and he was usually an inept as far as social interaction was concerned, but people liked him somehow, and he didn’t complain about that.

Once he was a block away from that nasty place _("fast food… there shouldn’t be anything fast about food,_ ” he was thinking) Castiel passed the local library and tripped over its owner. Fortunately he was a giant of a man, and held him before both of them fell to the ground.

"Castiel! Good afternoon! Are you distracted today?" Sam Winchester asked, with that goofy smile he always carried.

Castiel blushed because of the shame he was feeling _("How can you trip over someone, Castiel? How can you be that clumsy?"_ ) and nodded, replying: “Good morning to you too! I don’t think distracted is the right word, to be honest. It’s just that I was obliged by my co-workers to go there,” he pointed at the big M that appeared bright and clear some meters away from them with his head, “and I couldn’t say no.”

Sam’s face lit up at the realization.

"Oh, I’m really sorry about that, dude,” he said, mortified. “It’s snowing and burgers there are cheap and tasteless," Sam added, offended. "Can’t you go to the Roadhouse and ask Ellen to give you something more nutritional?"

"I wish I could, but everybody is waiting for some toys that place is giving with orders and they are really insistent with that," Castiel replied.

“Are you buying lunch for some kids?” Sam asked, confused.

Castiel felt embarrassment invading his body while he shook his head. “In fact, it’s for my co-workers…” he said, seconds later.

Silence spread between them and Sam arched his eyebrows.

"Oh my God, that Star Wars shit?!" Sam asked later, and Castiel nodded. "What is happening to adults these days, my God!” Sam said, sounding upset. “My brother collected every one of them, and he is being a child over them. I caught him yesterday playing with C3PO and R2D2, he was making sound effects and everything…” Sam sighed.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, but I am in a hurry so I really need to go," Cas said, shamefaced.

"May the force be with you," Sam said and waved at Castiel, before closing the door of the library. Castiel stayed there for a couple of seconds, trying to understand what Sam has said to him, until a snowflake hit his nose and he realized that even when he didn’t want it, he had to keep going.

The last bunch of steps was unbearable to walk. A disgusting mixture of feelings was fighting in his guts once he arrived in front of the McDonalds, with his hand on the handle. “I can make it, I can make it,” he thought, pushing the door open. “I’m betraying myself, but I can make it.”

Once inside, the heat invaded him and Castiel suddenly felt better and more relieved. The cold outside was unbearable… so was that smell, he thought seconds later. Cheap burgers and greasy chicken, exactly the last thing his nose could cope with at that moment.

Fortunately, there were not a lot of people in line. He looked for the shorter queue and waited, looking at the paper and rolling his eyes. “I hope the employee can understand this,” he said, in frustration. Then instinctively Castiel raised his head and noticed his cashier. He was tall, good-looking and even in his uniform it could be seen that he was solidly-built. His face was a work of Gods, with deep green eyes, square features, and freckles all over his cheeks. Apparently he had dark blonde hair, or that was what his cap allowed to be shown. And his lips… oh his lips, and how he smiled to the clients before him, he was completely kissable and…

"Hello, welcome to McDonalds, may I take your order?" Castiel was suddenly interrupted by the greek God and… when had the line cleared up? Was he really that absorbed in his face that he didn’t notice time running? Was he such a teenager?

"Aaa… eeh… excuse me?" Castiel finally said, completely red and ungraceful. The cashier smiled at him, amused by his reaction, and that made Castiel blush even more.

"I was saying:  _Hello, welcome to McDonalds, may I take your order_ … your purchase… or your number?” the man replied, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s and his grin even bigger than before.

Castiel stared back, completely bewildered, unsure of what to say or what to do. Was the guy flirting with him? Was he just making fun of him? Castiel stared back until at some point the cashier cleared his throat, blushing a little as well. “I… I was just…” he started saying but Castiel interrupted.

"Here’s my order!" he said, louder than intended and handing him the paper Charlie gave to him.

The cashier read the note, his eyes widening, and looked at Castiel again, looking terribly ashamed.  _“Yeah, Gabriel’s handwriting is something to be ashamed of,”_  Castiel thought.

"I see, now…" he said, cleaning his throat again. "I’m sorry," he added with his eyes in the cash machine, while typing and mumbling things like  _"I’m an idiot"_ or  _"I should cut my tongue."_

Castiel was still trying to understand why he was saying those things to himself when he noticed the guy disappearing into the kitchen, leaving Castiel alone. Each minute was eternal (which seemed ironic, taking into account it had passed really fast while he has stared at the guy) until he appeared again, with a new piece of paper and a pen in his hand.

"It’s 34 dollars with 23 cents," he said, not looking at Castiel’s eyes. Castiel handed him the money and it was not until the guy gave him the change that they made contact again.

Another employee brought seven small carton boxes wrapped in a spacious bag and left them in the counter. The cashier checked them and put the receipt inside, as well as the piece of paper he still held in his hand.

"That’s not the receipt…" Castiel started to say.

"No, it’s not, that’s for you," the cashier answered, trying to show a smile and giving him the bag. "Hope your kids enjoy the meal. Have a nice day." That said, they broke contact and the cashier started talking to the lady behind Castiel. "Hello, welcome to McDonalds, may I take your order?"

Castiel found himself confused, but he knew something: his turn was over and he was obstructing the whole queue standing there like a statue. The cashier didn’t attempt to watch him again so he left his spot and walked to the door, thinking about what had happened.  When he was outside, he barely noticed the cold. He walked to the office, trying to find answers. He didn’t even notice Sam yelling at him, trying to catch his attention to initiate a new conversation.

He opened the office’s door only to discover than both Charlie and Anna were waiting for him, expectantly.

"Finally!!" Charlie said, trying to reach the bag but suddenly Castiel stopped her. He had no idea why, but instinctively he separated the receipt and the other piece of paper the cashier added from the rest of the things.

"Yours," said Cas, giving Charlie the box. "Yours," he said again, giving Anna the receipt and the change he had in the trench-coat pocket. "Mine," he finished, showing them the note.

Both girls raised their eyebrows because of Castiel’s weird behavior but said their thanks and left him alone. Once they were out, Castiel sighed again and looked at the paper. He left the trench-coat on the clothes rack and sat on his desk. His computer was still suspended and he had already finished his urgent tasks so he put the paper in front of him and then he opened it.

There was something written there, and the handwriting was really neat but small.

 

 

> _Hi, I’m writing this to tell u I’m really sorry about earlier._
> 
> _I didn’t want to offend u, and I don’t usually behave like that but I saw your eyes and I couldn’t avoid it, dude._
> 
> _~~You have really blue eyes,~~ _
> 
> _Shit, I was doing it again._
> 
> _I was carefree and I just assumed you were single or gay, or both… but your kid’s note cleared the picture before I was fucking up in front of you again._
> 
> _It won’t happen again, tho I suppose you won’t want to show your face here, after what I did. You could go to the Roadhouse, tbh, Ellen makes bigger burgers._
> 
> _Sorry and happy meal,_
> 
> _Dean_

 

Castiel reread the whole thing approximately twenty times before exhaling the breath he was holding from the second he read it for the first time, and put his hands over this head.

"Oh my God," he said and repeated it a thousand times until he heard steps coming his way. He hid the note and moved his mouse vigorously in order for Windows to wake up.

"Don’t waste your time, Windows is lame and I know you were taking a nap anyway," Gabriel said, and Castiel groaned. Gabriel was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"This is yours," Gabriel said, putting a cheeseburger, some fries and a paper cup in front of him. "Eat," he finished.

Castiel groaned even louder. “I don’t eat meals that are prepared in that place,” he said, completely pissed.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “Your rest is over and you had nothing except for coffee since you came here so you will eat,” he said. “And here you have a little friend to keep you company,” he added, putting a green creature in between his monitor and telephone.

"What is that?" Castiel asked.

"It’s not a  _what_ , it’s a  _who_ ,” Gabriel answered. “And he is called Yoda. He is really wise and everything but he talks weird – just like you,” he said, laughing, and left the desk.

"My wording may be weird, but your handwriting ruins everything!!" he yelled at the same time Gabriel laughed, clueless of what Castiel was really implying.

Once he was alone again, he contemplated his lunch, completely sure his day couldn’t get worse than that. His stomach started rumbling and he had no other option than trying a little bit of the cheeseburger.

And then he realized it could, in fact, get even worse.

That low quality meat-and-bread thing didn’t taste as horrible as he thought it would.

 

 

When it is said that Castiel was not a people person, it means he was not a people person. Sure, he could keep conversations and maintain some friendships and family ties with siblings, but he got completely flustered over any  _out-of-the-ordinary_ exchange with others, even more when they were strangers. So, it is easy to infer Castiel panicked over the whole Dean situation.

At first he was absolutely shocked about the whole thing in general, but after a couple of days he started feeling anxious about the fact that someone as attractive as Dean hit on him, Castiel Novak, of all people. And the thing is, Castiel never thought of himself as someone anyone else would feel interested in, either sexually or romantically, so Dean’s reaction was totally unexpected and even impossible to happen, as far as Castiel was concerned.

His brothers Balthazar and Michael tried to make him go out multiple times, with different kind of people. The first time Castiel was at college, and when his brothers came to visit, they brought a girl with them in the attempt to make them have a date (" _or just get banged_ ," as Balthazar suggested). Castiel couldn’t remember if her name started with an A, or with a B… or with a Z. He only remembered raising his eyebrows and telling them, right in front of the girl, “ _I am positive you don’t remember but as I’ve stated multiple times, I am, in fact, gay,_ ” for his siblings’ surprise and the girl’s embarrassment. Balthazar ended having the prepared date with her, in order to make some amends, while Michael played PlayStation games in Castiel’s small apartment and Castiel spent the whole night mastering his knowledge about c _rème brûlée_.

After that, both Balthazar and Michael at least had the tact of bringing men with them, but it never worked. A couple of times Castiel accepted going through the procedures of a date, but neither candidate woke the flame inside Castiel and they never made it last more than a couple of hours. Castiel never let them go inside his department or kissed them goodnight, to Balthazar’s rage.

"I won’t have sexual intercourse with anyone if I don’t feel it!" Castiel said once when Balthazar was complaining about it over the phone.

"Then you will die untouched!" he answered.

"I don’t care!" Castiel said back. And it was true.

"You’re boring…" Balthazar concluded, after some seconds of silence.

"I’m not like you," Castiel replied with venom, making Balthazar hang up on him.

He didn’t call Castiel back in months, and Castiel would be dishonest if he said he missed their conversations. Once they were on speaking terms again, Balthazar decided he would never bring him a guy again, and Castiel smiled, assuring him he would deal with his private life by himself.

Castiel did. He never had another date or he never met anyone he could consider trying with, but he didn’t mind. Up to that moment.

Since the incident with Dean, Castiel couldn’t stop thinking about him. Wherever he was, Dean was on his mind, and thoughts about how meeting him would be, or how a date with him could have actually gone invaded him completely. Once he was so concentrated thinking about his freckles that he closed the Excel sheet he was working in without saving it. Naomi told him off and Castiel had to spend three extra hours after his shift finishing the task again.

Everybody at work noticed how absent-minded Castiel had been, but no one commented on it, not even Gabriel in one of his tasteless decisions.

One day, a couple of weeks after meeting Dean, Johanna Beth Harvelle came to the office with everybody’s lunch. She was Ellen Harvelle’s daughter and the Roadhouse main employee. Jo was in charge of tables, when she was inside the bar, and delivering orders, when she felt like going out. Castiel couldn’t say she was his friend, formally, but she always cared about his well-being and added extra mayonnaise when he ordered seafood salads.

That particular day Castiel was the one whose lunch was delivered at the end, and when Jo approached him she did it with a smile.

"Here is your  _Tuna spinach mornay with smash,_ " she said, handing him a plastic box that Castiel took eagerly.

"It smells amazing!" Castiel said, closing his eyes and sniffing at the box.

Jo smiled. “My mom told me to tell you that you’re really presumptuous with your lunch choices,” she said, smiling at Ellen’s insult.

"Even if your mother thinks that bad of me, tell her I think she is the best cook I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” Castiel answered, opening the box.

“I’ve already told you my mom is not the one cooking…” Jo pointed out.

“She hired the best cook, then” Castiel decided, and Jo smiled at that.

Suddenly after that Castiel yawned, and actually a couple of tears fell from his eyes. Jo noticed them and she changed her face completely, as if she was worried about her friend’s condition.

"Look at the bags in your eyes, dude!" she said, sounding deeply concerned. "What were you doing last night? Did you sleep?"

Castiel didn’t know what to answer her. Truth was that he only could sleep three hours yesterday and the rest of the night was spent thinking about Dean, dreaming about Dean, waking up after thoughts about Dean. But that was really pathetic for him to say, so he decided to minimize it.

"It’s nothing, don’t worry, I just think I’ve worked too much the last couple of weeks, that’s all," he said, trying to sound confident.

Jo looked at him as she didn’t believe a single word of what he was saying, and Castiel realized that was probably what was happening. They stared a couple of seconds until Jo sighed deeply and sat down at Castiel’s desk.

"It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me but don’t think I’m fool enough not to realize you’re lying to me because that hurts," she said, not breaking the eye contact with Castiel, who was starting to feel cornered and completely in the wrong.

"I’m sorry," Castiel said, looking at the screen of his computer.

"Don’t be sorry, I just want you to realize I consider you a valuable friend and that I’m here if you need to talk," she said, putting her hand over Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel looked at her again and smiled a little. "I’m the one who is sorry in fact," she added, "you’re a great person and you don’t deserve having a hard time, whatever it is that is bothering you…"

Castiel was about to answer her, when Gabriel and Charlie screamed, “Lunch time!” and turned up the radio’s volume, interrupting him. Castiel yawned again while looking for his fork in the briefcase. Jo made no move and stayed at Castiel’s desk, making it clear she wouldn’t be going until Castiel told her what was happening with him.

Seconds later a guitar chord filled the room and Chris Martin’s voice made Charlie scream. “I love Coldplay!” she said and Kevin threw a ball of paper right into her face.

Castiel paid no attention to the song, nervous about Jo’s look, practically eating his brains out, until at some point he heard a particular verse.

" _Green eyes, yeah the spotlight, shines upon you. And how could, anybody, deny you,_ " the song said and Castiel groaned in pain. Why couldn’t he eat his lunch in peace?  _Green eyes_ , really?

Jo made a confused face, “Don’t you like Coldplay, buddy? Practically the whole world loves Coldplay! Get a grip!” she said and Castiel looked back at her completely puzzled.

"I don’t know what a  _cold play_  is,” he said and Jo rolled her eyes in answer.

"The band," she said. "The ones singing the song you’re listening to?"

Castiel understood and shook his head. “I have no problems with the music group,” he said. “It’s something else.”

Jo said nothing and let Castiel keep on eating his lunch. Instead she paid attention to the lyrics, out of curiosity until she heard it say " _Green eyes, you’re the one that I wanted to find_ ," and she hit the desk, scaring Castiel.

"It’s a love song! You’re pining over someone!" she practically screamed and Castiel had to drink half his water bottle to prevent the food in his throat from killing him.

Castiel looked at his co-workers, panicking that they heard Jo, because they were the last people he wanted to tell about his current situation. He glanced at them all, and after realizing nobody was paying attention to them, but absorbed in their meals and cellphones, he looked at Jo.

"I don’t want them to know," Castiel said, and Jo nodded. Castiel smiled at her. Jo was a good person, and she knew how to keep a secret.

"Do you want to tell me?" she asked and Castiel left his fork in the box. He sighed and put his hands in his face, thinking. Perhaps it was good for him to share his problems, he was not good dealing with heart to heart conversations, but clearly he was not doing very well keeping the whole thing to himself, either. And certainly Jo was the best option he had currently, so after deciding, he put his hands on the desk again and looked at her.

"It’s stupid," he said.

"Love is neverstupid," Jo answered.

Castiel smiled. “Love is a big word, Johanna. It’s just a crush,” headded.

Jo rolled her eyes, “Crushes are never stupid,” she corrected.

They smiled at each other again and then Castiel started telling her all. From the beginning of his day, that midday at work, to the point he was now, pining over someone he barely knew, and who probably forgot about him because he thought Castiel was married and not allowed.

Jo listened to every sentence with attention. At some points Castiel noticed she made weird faces, like remembering or comprehending something she didn’t before, but Castiel didn’t pay much attention to that, preferring to share his whole heart for once with someone else. He told her his family problems as well, and how his brothers didn’t understand him, and how he found himself in complicated situations because he hadn’t the same priorities as they had. Jo nodded, and understood. And Castiel lost the track of time. At the point of finishing, he glanced at the clock and realized an hour passed without him noticing it.

The mornay was cold too. “I will have to use the microwave,” Castiel said and Jo laughed.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “You know what?” she said. “You keep on saying love is a big word and all that but I cannot define it differently. I mean,” she added when she realized Castiel was rolling his eyes, “you were thinking about this  _Dean_  for weeks, and didn’t have the guts to go there and clear the whole thing up because it embarrasses you, but you still keep on thinking and dreaming and pining and crushing over him… you’ve got it bad, dude, so I think that may be the beginning of something that could definitely be love, if given the opportunity.”

"He thinks I’m married, that I have seven children and Gabriel is one of them!" Castiel said, completely frustrated.

"All that can be resolved with a simple conversation," Jo suggested.

Castiel looked at her, “I know,” he said, “but it’s not only embarrassment,” he confessed. “He probably forgot about me the minute after I left. I don’t want to act ridiculously in front of the guy I was dreaming about for weeks,” Castiel added.

"I understand," Jo said, "but to be honest I don’t think he forgot… Usually when a crush is this big and breathtaking both parts feel the same way, be sure about that, it’s a rule of life," she added winking and said nothing more. She started looking at her pockets, and when Castiel thought the conversation was over, she handed him a piece of paper. "A friend of mine gave me this. Discounts coupons,"she said. "For today."

"I don’t want to go to that place again," Castiel said, stubborn.

"Oh God, Castiel, you told me ten minutes ago you liked the damn burger!" Jo said, losing her patience. "Will you ruin your future love life because you don’t want to taste a Big Mac?! Sort out your priorities!!"

Castiel said nothing, but took her discounts.

"Perhaps a Southwest Salad, instead of a Big Mac," Castiel said.

"Whatever, dude," Jo said. "Let the lettuce guide you to your Prince Charming!" she said and both shared a laugh. Jo stood up and ruffled Castiel’s hair with her hand. "When I say you’re a great person I’m not lying, my friend," she pointed out. "I really want you to be happy. Go for it!"

"And if I fail?" Castiel asked, really concerned.

"Then you knew that at least you tried," Jo explained, wisely. Castiel knew she was right. "Promise you will go today?" she said. Castiel found his breathing heavy as he answered.

"I don’t know if tod-" he started saying.

"Promise me you will go today," Jo interrupted him, giving Castiel no chance to deny her.

"I will," Castiel answered, at last, and Jo smiled. She took all her stuff and looked at the door. "I will have to go before your boss finds us."

Castiel nodded, they’ve been lucky enough. They didn’t need to press the situation even more. Jo kissed him in the cheek, hugged him and started her way out. After a couple of steps, she turned back and looked at Castiel.

"You want to know something more?" she started. "I have a friend of mine, practically a brother, who was absent-minded the other day, so I asked him what was happening, and he denied everything to my face. I let him be. Then, a couple of days later, I heard him singing Elton John in our karaoke machine at the Roadhouse. Poor guy, he thought I was not watching him or something. I approached and cornered him enough that he had to tell me everything, while the song talked about  _eyes that were blue, as blue as the sea and as blue as the sky_ … corny, I know, he is like that,” she said with a smirk on her face. Castiel felt uneasy, suddenly, which was stupid but he couldn’t see Jo’s point in telling him that. “I told him more or less the same as I told you, because both situations were similar, but sadly he said to me  _'Jo, I wished I could go after him, or at least watch him again, but I don't even know his name'_. That’s shittier, don’t you think?” she asked and Castiel nodded. “You have the information you need, don’t lose the chance.”

That said, she walked to the door and waved at Castiel, before disappearing from his sight. Castiel looked at the discount coupons and felt a strange pressure in his stomach. How could be possible that his life has turned to this ridiculousness in literally only a couple of weeks? And even, how could be possible that people pay 10 dollars for a salad?! Castiel was not really sure what thing bothered him the most. He put the coupons in his jacket’s pocket and restored his computer. Excel was waiting for him.

Hours were filled with anticipation, and Castiel could barely contain himself. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but at some point in the afternoon he wrote a little note just in case he couldn’t find the courage to talk in front of Dean. Which was terribly possible, he reckoned.

When the clock announced it was 6:40 his excitement was out of control, and Castiel decided to drink a last cup of coffee to calm himself a little. When he was leaving the kitchen, he felt the presence of someone staring at him, and when he raised his face he realized he was right. Naomi was looking at him from her office’s door.

"Novak," she said to him. "I need you in my office, now."

There was no room for Castiel to deny Naomi anything, so he followed her. Castiel had a bad feeling about this, but preferred ending whatever it was quickly and without panicking. He had to get out of there in twenty minutes.

"So, Novak, you know you’re one of the older and more experienced employees of this company," she started, once she was sat at her desk, in front of him. "Although, being in your position requires more responsibility, as well, and I’m not seeing a lot of it these days, unfortunately," she added.

Castiel gulped, awaiting the worst. And it definitely came.

"For instance today," Naomi declared. "The fact that I didn’t say anything doesn’t mean I didn’t see you chatting with Johanna Harvelle for a long period of time, way longer than your lunch break," she expressed, monotonously, as if she was talking about something unimportant.

"I had a personal problem and she was just-" Castiel tried to say but Naomi interrupted him.

"I don’t care about your personal problems, Novak, and certainly you can arrange a meeting with Harvelle out of the office. She can help you with them as much as you want to when you’re not working," she decided and Castiel wished he was anywhere but in that room. Naomi was always strict, and she never stopped controlling them, but somehow Castiel thought he was having a good day until that moment.

"Let’s see," she continued and Castiel raised his eyes again, looking at her. She was reading her calendar. "You were resting for more or less an hour at lunch and I need all the month balances completed in two. I can easily add you another hour of work as a warning and it gives you fifteen minutes of advantage for you to end them all." Naomi looked Castiel in the eyes, smiling. "Do it Novak, and don’t disappoint me this time. Today your work ends at nine o’clock." Her smile increased exponentially. "Now please go back to your desk that I have work to do as well."

Castiel lost no time and stood up.

"I’m sorry, it won’t happen again," he said while opening the office’s door.

"I hope so," she added and Castiel felt a bomb exploding in his stomach.

He went to his desk, cursing his disastrous luck and the thoughts of finding Dean at the end of his horrible day was the only thing helping him to sort out all the formulas and graphics he was doing. Because yeah, Castiel studied for years until he got the Accountant degree, and he felt proud about it, but it was always a family imposition instead of a personal decision. And in days like this one, the weight in his shoulders felt somehow heavier.

The clock announced 8:30pm when Castiel finished everything. Half an hour earlier, or an hour and a half later. He sent Naomi the reports and ordered all his stuff in the desk, gaining some time. Ten minutes later Naomi answered his email back, simply replying: “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, go home.” Castiel was not told twice. He turned the computer off, while taking his bag and trench-coat.

Once in the elevator, he checked his jacket pockets. The coupons were there, and that made him smile shyly. Even when snow covered the sidewalks and the cold was insufferable, Castiel kept on walking with a smile on his face, and sped up his pace. McDonalds was waiting for him and Castiel never felt such a duality in his guts as when he entered the place for the second time.

The place was hell. People everywhere, kids everywhere, smells everywhere. There were five employees cashing orders at the counter but the lines were so long, Castiel couldn’t spot if Dean was one of them. He placed himself in the line that looked less congested and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When he was closer to the counter he realized, in fact, Dean was not there, but decided to ask about him to the young guy in charge of his line. At least, he looked amiable enough, surely he would help him with that.

"Hello, sir, welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?" the boy asked Castiel and he felt all the nervousness coming back to his body at once.

"Yes… No…" Castiel started saying and the cashier looked at him completely puzzled. "I mean, yes… what’s your name?" Castiel asked.

"Alfie," the guy answered Castiel, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Alfie. I want you to give me a Southside… I mean, a Southwest Salad and a glass of Pepsi-".

"We only have Coke products, sir," Alfie corrected timidly.

"And a glass of Coke, then," Castiel replied, blushing furiously. Alfie looked at him for a moment and then he shook his head, as if Castiel was not the first customer today confusing trademarks. That didn’t make him feel better.

"Do you want something else?" Alfie asked, and Castiel found his opportunity.

"Yes, I mean no, I don’t want anything else to drink or eat but…" Castiel sighed. "I need… if you can tell Dean I need to talk with him… please?" he added and somehow it sounded like a beg in Castiel’s ears.

Alfie was silent for a moment, as if the question had surprised him, and then he answered: “What Dean?”

Castiel was the one surprised now. “I don’t know his surname but he has green eyes, light hair, he is more or less 10 years older than you and was working here a couple of weeks ago-“

"Oh, that Dean!"Alfie said and Castiel felt like air was entering his body again. "Unfortunately he resigned a couple of hours ago, sir," Alfie added. "Your order is $12.36," he added, as if nothing had happened. As if Castiel could hear him while his world was falling apart.

Castiel was still as a statue until Alfie called him. Twice.

"Why did he… why did he resign?" Castiel asked, once his voice functioned again.

"I have no idea, sir. But he was yelling at our boss, furious. Then he picked his stuff up and gave our cook Bela the finger. I think at some point he said ' _I won't be your boytoy, Crowley. Go-_ ',” Alfie hesitated. ” _'Go fuck yourself,’_ sir. He said that and left,”Alfie added, murmuring.

Alfie left to pick the order and Castiel never felt this unlucky in his life. He was not used to being a winner, but this was the last straw. His day couldn’t turn worse than this.

When Alfie came back with his order he repeated the price and Castiel handed him his credit card and the coupons. “You look worried, sir,” he said, and Castiel noticed there was real concern in Alfie’s face.

"I am," Castiel confessed. "I never thought Dean would leave. I never considered that possibility…" he added, and even when Alfie had no idea what he was talking about, he nodded at Castiel, giving him the card back. "Do you know where I can find him?" Castiel asked, as if it was the last card he was allowed to play.

Alfie considered it before answering.

"Sadly I don’t know, sir. I was not his friend and I don’t have access to Human Resources documents," he said, finally. "You can always come back in a couple of days and ask someone else. Saturday would be a good option, neither Crowley nor Bela are here, but Sarah Blake is and she will surely be able to help you."

"Thanks," Castiel said, taking the card and the order. "I will."

And with that he left the building. There was no reason for him to sit at a table to eat the salad. Dean was not there. Dean wouldn’t come back either and he had no desire to eat anything, suddenly feeling a knot in his stomach.

Castiel analyzed his options before starting to walk again. He did not have much, if he was completely honest with himself. He didn’t consider having dinner with his brothers, they would never understand his situation and in fact, they would likely laugh at him. Same with his co-workers. Charlie would comprehend, but he had no intentions to retell how pathetic he was to yet another person that day. The worst one was his own house, though. He didn’t want to be alone and sad in an apartment that had no human presence in it since he left that morning. That would make him feel even more upset.

That was the moment he remembered Jo. And how Jo worked in a bar. And how said bar was full of alcohol. And how he, in fact, needed to imbibe copious quantities of it. Alcohol would make him forget. So, he sighed deeply, making his decision, and walked to the Roadhouse, waiting to, at least, finish his day completely buzzed.

 

 

The Roadhouse was a good place, Castiel always had that opinion. The atmosphere was comfortable, people were friendly and the food was amazing. Drinks, he hoped, would be amazing as well. At least they would help Castiel to stop thinking. That was enough.

Castiel never knew if he was tolerant to alcohol or if he wasn’t. Furthermore, he didn’t know if he liked alcohol or not, since the only experiences he had in his life involved a couple of beers when he was with his co-workers, or some glasses of wine when he was with his brothers (Balthazar would always push him to drink more and more at those opportunities, but Castiel was lucky enough to have him already drunk by that time, giving him no chance to do so).

Castiel was sure this would be the first time in his life he would be drinking by personal decision, and somehow that pleased him. After all, Dean was literally the first person he felt a real attraction to, other  _first times_  would be worth to experience in order to forget the whole thing.

After a couple of minutes Castiel found himself at the bar’s door and noticed the parking lot was full of cars, meaning there would be tons of customers there as well.

"Better," Castiel thought to himself. "It means Ellen won’t notice me and won’t lecture me when I’m completely wasted."

Castiel pushed the door and made his way inside. As previously thought, it was crowded. People, literally, everywhere. All the tables were occupied, as well the pool tables and most of the bar. He leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for someone to leave. While he was doing it, he observed the scenery. The atmosphere was dark, but welcoming, with its soft lights and music. Ellen was at the bar, cleaning some glasses while she laughed at one of the guys sitting there. Jo was attending some tables and writing orders, coming and going from behind the kitchen. Ash, Ellen’s employee, was at the cash register, while brushing his mullet with one hand and checking his cellphone with the other one. 

Once one of the stools was freed, Castiel walked through the bar, completely resolved, and sat. He cleared his throat, thinking perhaps it was a good idea to hide his face and pretend he didn’t know Ellen so she couldn’t ask him anything, but that theory failed when Ellen noticed him.

"Castiel, what are you doing here?" she asked, a little surprised. Castiel groaned, making Ellen laugh. "Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you or something?" she asked again, laughing some more.

Castiel rolled his eyes, completely defeated.

"I need a drink, Ellen," Castiel said, sighing deeply.

"Don’t you want me to give you a coke and-"

"I need a drink. Alcohol," Castiel repeated, interrupting her.

Ellen shook her head and placed herself in front of Castiel.

"What happened to you?" Ellen asked, as a mother would ask a son.

"Just a bad day, it’s nothing," Castiel replied.

"And you don’t want to talk about it?" Ellen pressed on.

"Not really, sorry," Castiel answered.

"It’s okay, I won’t push you," Ellen said, "but if you need to talk, you know you can trust me, don’t you?" she asked and Castiel nodded, making her smile. "What do you want, then?" she said and Castiel looked at her clearly puzzled.

"I have no idea," he confessed. "Whatever makes me drunk quicker," Castiel decided and Ellen went for it, shaking her head some more and leaving him alone.

Minutes later she came back with a bottle, but Castiel couldn’t know what the label said. She handed him the glass and Castiel analyzed it.

"What is it?" he asked, curious.

"London Gin," Ellen said. "If that doesn’t make you drunk, nothing will."

Castiel put the glass to this mouth and drank it all without thinking twice. Clearly this had nothing to do with the beers and wine he used to drink. This made his throat burn, while coughing a couple of times, and feeling a little dizzy and completely absent of everything but the drink itself and the sensation it provided. At that moment he decided it was what he was looking for.

"Give me another!" he told Ellen, and she provided. Once, twice, three more times. That is when Jo decided to appear.

"Castiel!" she yelled. "Mom!" she yelled again, and Castiel’s head was spinning around. "There are no more tables to serve, I will take care of him," she said, and Ellen let her daughter take responsibility of the situation. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked him, once they were alone.

"Day sucked balls!" Castiel said, barely noticing what he was saying. "Everything was a disaster. Because my life is!" he pointed out, hitting the table with his glass. "Give me more of that cognac!!"

Jo arched an eyebrow.

"It’s not cognac, it’s gin," she said, "and I won’t give you shit until you tell me what’s happening to you. Did D-?"

"Naomi hates me. My fucking brothers couldn’t care less about me. I have a home that is always empty! I want to work as something I am not and I will never be! I have no money to make it happen and I have no time to study!" Castiel ranted, while Jo looked at him, and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support.

When he stopped talking, Jo tried again. “Did you see Dean?” she asked.

Castiel raised his eyes, and gave her a look full of disappointment. “I shouldn’t have done what you told me,” he said. “The concept of good luck is not something for me.”

Jo looked at him, as if she wasn’t sure about what to do, and Castiel said nothing more about the issue. After a couple of silent seconds, Castiel asked again for a refill and this time Jo did as she was told.

While he was drinking, a loud noise distracted him. It was Sam Winchester, of all people, storming in the bar and walking to where Castiel and Jo were, with a worried face.

"Where is the jerk?" he asked and Jo looked at him as if she was not understanding. She looked back to Castiel, then to Sam again and gave him a confused frown.

"What jerk?" she asked, and Sam rolled his eyes as an answer.

"Who do you think, Jo? My brother, of course!" he answered, matter-of-factly. "He sent me a message that said ' _at da roadhouse, don't dare coming cosi'll punch u_ ' so I had to come here and do the opposite of what he asked.”

Jo was silent for a couple of seconds and then blushed fiercely, her face becoming a big red sign, looking completely embarrassed. She started saying “Oh my God,” multiple times and looking between Sam and Castiel. At some point Sam noticed him and he smiled at Castiel’s drunk face.

"We all have our days, buddy," he said and then he looked at Jo again. "Hey, Earth to Jo! Earth to Jo! Where is my brother?!" he asked again. Jo never answered, but Ash came to her rescue. He sounded amused by the whole situation, and Castiel couldn’t blame him.

"He came here a couple of hours ago, with the biggest pissed off face on the planet, even bigger than when that Aaron guy rejected him… remember?" Sam and Ash shared a laugh and Castiel felt horribly out of place. "Then he said something like  _‘I’m a loser’_  and went to his old room. He yelled he didn’t want to be pestered or he would hit me in the face and closed the door. He never came back.”

Sam dropped himself into the stool besides Castiel and put his hands on his face. Castiel noted him frustrated, perhaps he was aware of his brother’s problems.

"You know, Ash? It’s not his fault one of the ninety jobs he has is a shitty one or that his boss there is a bad guy, or that he has it difficult finding the right person. It’s just… shit happens in life too. To everybody. Yet the only thing he does is blamehimself for everything. Since we were kids." Sam sighed and Castiel, even though he knew it was not the case, thought somehow the whole speech was directed to him. Vodka did strange things to his body. "Whatever," Sam said, standing up again. "I will go check on him, just in case. I won’t let him hit me, though," he added, smiling and Ash smiled at him too. Jo was still silent.

Sam directed himself to the stairs and before he disappeared, Ellen shouted at him: “Tell the asshole I say he needs to get laid!” making some of the people at the bar laugh as a response. They didn’t sound like they were getting a laugh at his expense, whoever Sam’s brother was. Their laughs sounded spontaneous and full of love. This is where Castiel noticed the people sitting close to Ellen. There was Bobby Singer and his associate Rufus. Jody Mills and her partners Andy and Victor were there too. Perhaps they knew him.

"That was my intention, you know? To make him get laid. Or more, even. I’m so sorry… I didn’t want it to go wrong," Jo said, suddenly, after minutes of not speaking a word and Castiel thought he couldn’t be more confused. He had no idea what she was talking about or why he was talking about Sam’s sibling’s sex life with him, so he asked for a refill instead. Jo served him uncountable times, to the point Castiel couldn’t tell his trench-coat from the wood of the bar. It was a horrible feeling, but Castiel thought it felt good, which was disastrous.

Apparently alcohol made Castiel lose track of time as well, because at some point he heard someone yell it was midnight and when he opened his eyes again a big moose was beside him. Only, the moose was not bawling, but talking in a voice that sounded like Sam’s.

"He will go down in a while" the moose said to someone. Castiel couldn’t recall if it was Jo or Ellen or Richard Strauss, for that matter. "I calmed him down a little, poor guy, he is in one of those days. He said he wouldn’t come home today, he will probably sleep here, if you let him?" someone nodded and the moose kept on talking. "Tomorrow I’ll leave Jess at work and come here to pick him up. Before opening the library is good with you?" Another nod and Castiel envied that kind of communication. It was even better to whatever attempt of conversation he has had with Michael since he was born.

The moose said his goodbyes and left the bar, and Castiel stopped listening to anything immediately after that. Sleep was consuming him, but he wanted to keep on drinking as well, so he tried a  _"Refill!"_  for the last time before dropping his arms and head on the table and closed his eyes.

And then he dreamt.

 

 

Castiel dreamt about whisky, paperwork, Naomi chasing him with extra time at work, hamburgers and Dean’s smile. It was a weird mixture, but somehow Castiel was sure it explained pretty well what his life has turned into.

He didn’t know how long he was sleeping, if it was minutes, hours or days, but after dreaming about how he was accepting and eating a cheeseburger Dean exclusively prepared him, he started dreaming he was waking up. And that was a hell of a complicated situation for him.

The dream started when he felt someone sit beside him in the bar, and started talking with Jo, who sounded completely nervous.

"It was not my intention, I swear," she said. "I only wanted you to have something good in your life for once and-" she pointed out, been interrupted by a second voice, who Castiel recognized as the guy sitting to his side.

"Jo, what in the seven hell are you talking about?!" the second person said, completely confused, and Castiel recognized it instantly, even when he only heard it for a couple of minutes, weeks ago. He was dreaming about Dean. Again.Dean, sat beside him. Yes, again. He was totally screwed.

The Jo in Castiel’s dreams was silent for a couple of seconds, as she was seriously thinking about an answer. Castiel thought it would be sweet if he was allowed to see her, but apparently this dream had no images. He decided not to drink tequila anymore in his life.

"What are _you_ talking about?" Jo finally replied, sounding angry and emphasizing the  _you_. “I’m clearly talking about you and Castiel. I know I’ve screwed it up, but at least don’t deny it to me.”

Now he was part of his own dreams with Dean. Amazing.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…" dream Dean said, interrupting her again. "Let’s start this whole thing again and be clearer now because it was not my fucking day and I don’t want to add yet another thing to be pissed off about," he said, clearing his throat. "Who the hell is Castiel?" he asked and Castiel felt like his stomach made a leap.

Another gap of silence came after that, and at some point Castiel thought he was changing his dream again but Jo answered him in a weird way.

"Mmm… him?" she said and Castiel comprehended everything. He was dreaming as if he was in the bar, asleep as he was in real life, and Jo was pointing at him. This would explain the whole darkness in it, he was supposed to be with his eyes closed… alcohol did the weirdest things in him.

He felt like the Dean in his dreams moved to look at him for the first time since he arrived and he heard him mumbled a surprising “What the hell?” as if he couldn’t believe what he was watching. “It’s Trench Coat Angel!” he said, sounding completely amazed. In the background, Jo’s voice repeated “what” a couple of times and caught Dean’s attention.

"It’s a Tyler Ward song, Johanna Beth, you have no idea," he said and fell silent for a couple of seconds. "I thought I wouldn’t see him again…"

"Of course you wouldn’t, you just met and had an argument a couple of hours ago, clearly you had no idea you would cross paths again so soon. Perhaps life is giving you a second… no! A third chance for you to fix the whole mess you made," Jo ranted and Castiel could sense an uncomfortable Dean besides him.

"I didn’t do anything-" Dean tried to say, unsuccessfully.

"Of course you did!" Jo said. "The poor guy is a good one, you surely rejected him, and I cannot understand it Winchester, a positive thing appears in your life and you push it away…"

Did Jo say Winchester?

"Can you stop?" Dean said, raising his voice and interrupting Castiel’s thoughts. "You sound like Sammy, seriously, stop. I have no idea what you’re talking about-"

"Oh, c’mon, Dean!" Jo interrupted him again. "It’s not like it’s the first time it happens-"

"WILL YOU LET ME TALK?" Dean broke her off, making Castiel jump. Both, the one in the dream and the one in real life. The whole sensation made Castiel feel really odd. "First of all, and as I’ve tried to tell you tons of times already, I never met him again after that time I told you about, weeks ago," Dean pointed out. "So, if the guy has a problem and he drank a liquor store cos of it, it’s not my fault. Second, I would like you to tell me how in the world you knew him, and why you never told me you did."

Silence spread for a couple of seconds, until Jo asked again. “Are you serious?” she said. “Is it true? Didn’t you see him again after that time?”

"I’m serious," Dean said. "If I’d have met him there he would have cheered me up enough not to be here in my former bedroom alone breaking the wardrobe’s door…" he resolved, naturally.

Silence invaded Castiel’s dream again, but this time it was a lighter one.

"Did you break the wardrobe’s door?" Jo asked, completely defeated.

Dean groaned in frustration.

"Answer my questions, Jo, please!" Dean answered her.

"What question?" she asked back.

"Are you deaf?" Dean answered again, even more frustrated than before. "Let’s start with how you know him."

Castiel wanted to answer that question himself, but apparently he was not able to do it in his dream, at least yet. There was a force keeping him exactly where he was, and he had not enough strength to fight it back. He decided to wait a little longer, then he could try again and asksome questions himself and clear the whole thing, at least a little. Then he would change his dream for a less problematic one with bees and flowers. Dean was invited to those ones, of course.

"Castiel works at Heaven & Associates," Jo answered, finally.

"What?" Dean replied.

"He is an accountant there," Jo told him again.

Dean was silent for a moment. “Really?” he said later.

"Yeah, Dean, really," Jo answered, and Castiel noticed her exasperating tone.

"How come we work… what… five or six blocks apart and we’ve never met before?" Dean asked later, and Castiel thought that if this was the real world he would want to know the same thing.

"Clearly neither of you have enough social life," Jo answered, and Castiel found that sentence really truthful, at least as long as he was concerned.

Dean sounded amused to Castiel’s ears, smirking a little because of what Jo had said. That didn’t mean it was over for him, so he insisted.

"And how did you know he was the one I was talking about the other day-" he started saying.

“ _The other day?!_ ” Jo said, laughing. “You were talking about Castiel practically every single day since you told me the first time, Casanova,” she teased.

“Jo…” Dean said, stopping her. The girl let out a moan in annoyance.

“Take it easy, tiger, I just found out today,” she finally said. “You know I tell you everything. But I just… I went to their office to bring them their lunches and I saw him. He is amazing, Dean, you have no idea, and I saw him completely upset so I went to him and I asked him why. At first he didn’t want to tell me anything but I insisted and he eventually did.”

“And he told you about…?” Dean pushed. Castiel felt him closer than before, which was impossible. Dreams were tactless.

“About you, dumbass!” Jo said, absolutely thrilled. “He told me about the meeting, and how you asked for his number, and the note you wrote him. You’re really romantic, and gay, brother.”

“I’m bisexual,” Dean pointed out.

“Whatever,” Jo answered. “Anyway,” she continued,“I already had my suspicions because he was all ‘ _he has the greenest eyes_ ’ and ‘ _he has freckles all over his face_ ’ but when he told me the guy was called Dean it was not even necessary for me to do the math.”

“You’re creepy,” Dean decided. “And he is creepy as well. Hot, and creepy. I mean, he is married with kids and everything and he is upset while he thinks about my eyes?! What the fuck??”

Jo hit the bar with her hand. Castiel jumped again.

“Didn’t you get the memo yet, darling?” she said. “He is not married! He is as single as you are! And he kinda liked your stupid face, but he is terribly shy, this is why he never went back to your work to clear that up, assuming you just moved on and he was being a weirdo.”

Dean sighed deeply again, and Castiel felt how his eyes were starting to open. It was a dream, he insisted internally, but he couldn’t help feeling nervous about everything. He moved his arms and raised his face, seeing it all blurred. He heard Dean let out a tiny “ _Jesus_ ,” and Jo say she would be going immediately.

Castiel cleaned his eyes with his left hand and after a moment, even in his drunk state, he found himself face to face with Dean for the second time. He saw him blush profusely, bringing out his freckles and making his eyes even greener, and Castiel thought he looked even more beautiful than the first time. No cap, no uniform… just Dean.

“Hey,” he said, smiling a little. “Long time no see, buddy.”

Castiel felt like he was melting inside, which was stupid, this was not happening at all.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel finally said, smiling as well. “It was a long time, indeed.”

Then an awkward silence invaded their space and neither of them knew how to break it. Castiel started playing with his glass and Dean moved his fingers over the table, but somehow they never stopped staring to each other. Castiel felt it was kind of magnetic, he couldn’t help it and they didn’t want it to stop. Somehow he knew Dean felt the same way, and that pushed him to decide he would say whatever he wanted to say. It was his dream and he would make it happy.

Dean started coughing, breaking both Castiel’s train of thought and the whole awkward atmosphere. Castiel thanked him for that.

"Sorry for assuming you were married, man," he said then. "Jo told me everything while you were asleep. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Don’t worry," Castiel answered. "If anything, I have to ask for forgiveness as well, because I never met you again to clear the issue up and you felt uncomfortable at my expense too."

"It’s okay," Dean said, shaking his head. Then he raised his right arm and put it in front of Castiel. "Let’s start again?" he added, smiling. Castiel wanted nothing else in his life than seeing that beautiful reaction more than in a dream.

Castiel raised his hand as well and shook it with Dean’s. “Let’s start again,” he repeated. Once their hands were skin against skin Castiel felt like electricity all over his body and it surprised him to the point Dean himself noticed the change of his expression.

"It’s strange," Castiel said as an explanation. "It felt weird, but I’m dreaming, and I shouldn’t be feeling anything."

Dean smirked.

"We have chemistry, buddy, that’s why it looked like sparks were flying, as in a Taylor Swift song or some shit of those. I felt that too," Dean said, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. "And you’re not dreaming. You’re drunk as a skunk, sure, but you’re not dreaming."

Castiel rolled his eyes and that made Dean laugh again.

"Let me introduce myself so you can know I’m not lying," Dean said, sitting in his stool again. "My name is Dean Winchester, I’m 33 years old and I’m an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets and sunrises and classic rock. I live with my brother and his wife, at their house, but I have a car, and she is practically the only thing I have to my name. I work several jobs cos I’m trying to save as much money as possible to reach a personal dream of mine. I work with Bobby in his garage at the weekends, sometimes I assist the Kansas firefighters’ brigade, I work here every morning making lunch menus and some bakery, and well… I used to work at the McDonalds you were to, but I suppose I will have to replace that one," he declared, sounding apologetic.

Castiel looked at Dean as if he was looking at a mine of gold.

"What did you just say?" he asked, completely amazed.

Dean blushed again. “I’ve said a lot of things, man” he tried, ashamed.

"You cook lunches here?" Castiel asked again, moving his stool closer to Dean’s.

Dean nodded and then Castiel leapt on him, hugging him tightly. Dean was taken completely by surprise, and both of them almost fell on the floor, but Dean found his balance before that happened and hugged Castiel back.

"You understand? It means you’re the one cooking my meals everyday!! You have no idea how much I love your cooking style!" Castiel said then, breaking the hug and taking Dean’s face with his both hands. "You’re the love of my life!" he declared then and let go, sitting in his stool again.

Dean was as red as a tomato, and Castiel realized his face was burning, so he assumed he was embarrassed as well.

"Dude, don’t say things you will regret in the morning," Dean said.

"I won’t regret," Castiel answered. "It’s a dream, after all," he added, looking at the bar. He heard Dean laugh again and Castiel hit the glass on the table, trying to catch someone’s attention. "Ellen! Ellen!" Castiel yelled. "Give me a new glass of piña colada for me, and for my Prince Charming here a glass of whatever he wants!!"

Ellen appeared seconds later, looking completely mortified.

"You were not drinking piña colada, Castiel, for God’s sake!! It was gin!!" she said, as if she had lost her patience completely. "You’re the worst drinker I’ve ever met!" she added, opening the bottle she had in one of her hands and intending to fill the glass. Dean stood up suddenly and took the bottle away from Ellen.

"Are you crazy?" he said, offended. "It’s enough. No more buzz for my friend here today. For months, even. Where is your mother instinct?"

“My mother instinct is perfectly placed here, in my heart, don’t worry about it,” Ellen answered him, “and be sure I will give him a lecture about this as soon as I can. I was just teasing you to see how you’d react.”

“And how did I?” Dean asked.

“As the Prince Charming our plastered friend pointed out you were, of course,” Ellen answered, with a smirk.

Dean accommodated himself in his stool, as a sign of embarrassment. “Shut up…” he said after that, softly and Ellen rolled her eyes affectionately at him.

She caressed Dean’s cheek motherly with her free hand. “If you won’t drink anymore, then do me a favor and get out of here,” she said, changing the subject completely.

Dean twisted his face in surprise. “Hey, that’s rude!” he said.

"Did you see what time is it?" Ellen retorted. "Did you see you’re the only ones here apart from the crew?"

Castiel raised his eyes and noticed Ellen was telling the truth. There was no one there, apart from them. Jo was cleaning the tables and lifting the chairs, while Ash was sweeping the floor, seeming bored, and Ellen was adding up the bills with the register open. The big clock beside the register showed a big green 4:00 am that Castiel couldn’t deny, even if he wanted to. Dreaming or not, he was imposing their hospitality. So, he tried to stand up from his stool unceremoniously, but he felt such a dizzy sensation in his body he had to lean on the bar in order not to fall down. However, Dean was paying attention, oh _Lord Dean the Righteous_ , and took him by the waist, balancing him.

"Do you want to go home, Cas?" he asked, and Castiel heard for the first time that nickname, all foreign and perfect, at the same time. He wanted to hear it forever.

"Would you bring me there, Dean?" Castiel asked, and Dean nodded.

"Of course," he said, simply.

They stared at each other a couple of seconds until Ellen brought their attention to herself. “Dean, honey, Sam took the Impala,” she said.

Dean groaned. “It’s my car, not his, Jesus! He will take that iPod of his to listen to Britney Spears!” He sighed and groaned again. “Can I borrow yours?”

"Did you lose your mind? No way. I will call you a cab," Ellen decided. "Now, really, get out of here. We have to clean. Wait for the car outside."

"Thank you, Ellen," Castiel heard Dean say, sarcastically, while he was guiding him to the door.

"Be a gentleman!" Ellen shouted back at him before Dean opened the door, sounding amused. He chuckled in response.

 

 

Once they were outside, Castiel felt the cold in his face, invading him. His dream kept on being full of sensations, he thought, but he left that be when he turned his head and he saw Dean was still with him, walking with him, pressing his hands on Castiel’s waist. It didn’t matter if it was a dream or not, Castiel never felt more complete before.

Dean noticed Castiel was staring so he turned his head as well and looked at him, smiling. “Do you prefer waiting standing up or sitting on the floor?” he asked.

Castiel considered his options for a moment. “I’d rather sit,” he confessed.

So Dean walked with him to the step to the Roadhouse’s porch, and sat them both there. Castiel felt his ass and back getting frozen in a second, as if he was suddenly waking up from a deep lethargy and Dean laughed at his side.

"This is when you realize you didn’t make the best decision," he said, and that made Castiel laugh too.

Everything was so simple with Dean: laughing, talking, feeling confident… Castiel didn’t want to wake up from that dream ever again. He looked at his middle, still locked in Dean’s arms (even when neither of them were in danger to fall down) and closed his eyes, sighing.

"Do you want to know something, Dean?" he said, opening them again, and Dean nodded, his full attention on him. "I’m really starting to think this is not a dream. It’s something embarrassing for me to say, but I want it not to be a dream," he confessed.

Dean then came closer to Castiel, instinctively (if that was physically possible) and held him tighter. “I’ve already told you, Cas, it’s not a dream,” he said and Castiel left his head lean on Dean’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and allowed that weird sensation of happiness to invade him, completely. He thought he was at the peak of the mountain and he couldn’t be higher. “If it’s time to confess things…” Dean said, interrupting Castiel’s thoughts. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about our meeting all these days, Cas. It’s stupid, I know, we barely talked and I made a fool of myself that day, but you were so handsome I couldn’t help it…” he breathed deeply. “You’re still handsome, of course,” he pointed out and Castiel realized he was wrong, he still could climb the mountain a little more.

"I think I can relate to that confession, Dean," Castiel said in a whisper.

"I’m glad to know that…" Dean answered and Castiel smiled. None of them said a word until Castiel yawned, minutes later. "Don’t sleep on me, Cas," Dean said. "Not until we are warmed in the car, at least," he added. Castiel shook his head as an answer and Dean leaned his head on top of his. "I don’t believe you so I propose you something. I’ve word-vomited a lot of things about me back in the bar, but I barely know your name. Tell me something about you, in the meanwhile, so you won’t fall asleep… what do you think?" he said, and Castiel agreed.

Castiel discovered then, that talking about anything with Dean felt as natural to him as laughing in his company or allowing that lack of personal space between them. Nothing of that made him feel uncomfortable, or as if it was forced. He didn’t know if it was a normal feeling, or the alcohol was helping him, but he knew it was just Dean and Castiel, sharing and bonding, and that felt good enough. Castiel talked with him about his family, how his father was always working, and his brothers were always trying to use his father’s money. He told Dean about his work, how much he liked it and how much he hated it, at the same time, and about his co-workers. He told Dean about his hobbies and about his dream of being a chef. Then Dean told him his own story, talking to Castiel about his brother, his sister in law, his niece to come, and his dead parents. He told Castiel about his jobs, and the reason why he had not an apartment of his own. When Dean mentioned he was saving money in order to open his own restaurant, it made them both laugh because of the coincidence. “I could hire you as my accountant… or the main cook,” Dean said and Castiel agreed instantly, even when it was just a hypothesis.

By the time they were in the cab they had already shared a lot of things with each other: anecdotes, ideas, preferences, and they discovered they had a lot in common, increasing unconsciously their attraction for each other even more. Castiel gave the address to the driver and let himself drift to sleep for a while, leaning his weight on Dean once more. He didn’t complain. At some point, in the middle of the trip, he felt Dean’s hand as if he was stroking his hair, but he decided against that. It was impossible. It was too good to be true.

Dean woke him up when they arrived, minutes later. “Will you be able to walk to the door, find your apartment and all that?” he asked and Castiel considered his answer a little.

"I suppose I am," he said and Dean nodded, "butI want you to come in with me, if you want."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, doubtfully, and Castiel rolled his eyes because of it.

"Of course I am," he answered, opening the car’s door and trying to make his way out. “I know you, Dean.”

“We met a couple of hours ago, dude,” Dean answered.

Castiel left the car and walked to the sidewalk. “I TRUST YOU, DEAN!” he yelled, completely out of his mind, surprising both the taxi driver and Dean himself.

“Sorry for that, he is a horrible drunk,” Dean apologized to the driver while paying him for the trip, and before Castiel could start yellingonce more, Dean left the car behind him. Dean knew it was a good decision to accompany Castiel after his third attempt of opening the hall’s door (with only two keys in his holder), and he decided it was actually the best decision when Castiel couldn’t conclude if he lived in the fourth floor or in the tenth.

"It says here that Mr. Castiel James Novak lives in the tenth floor," Dean announced after reading the hall’s nameplate.

"I didn’t remember that," Castiel confessed, once Dean pushed the elevator button and its door was closed. "Apartment C?" he guessed, doubtfully.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "At least you got that right."

Castiel was the first one who started laughing. Dean joined in quickly after that. They didn’t stop giggling nonsensically until they were both inside the flat.

Castiel turned on all the lights he remembered that were there to be turned on. And then he sighed, realizing everything was exactly the way he left it God knew how many hours ago. He walked a couple of steps on his own until a horrible sensation attacked his stomach and mouth, and made him stop.

"I feel like I will throw up," he declared to Dean and then went to the bathroom, as quickly as possible. He didn’t even leave his coat behind.

After what he considered one of the nastiest minutes of his life, Castiel heard Dean talk. “Do you need someone to rub your back?” he said, and the sole sound of Dean’s voice made him feel better.

Castiel flushed the toilet and answered. “I don’t want to impose, Dean, it’s disgusting,” he said and sighed. His stomach didn’t ache as much as before but he felt impossibly tired. He rested his head on the toilet seat and closed his eyes. Seconds later the sound of a spray surprised him and Castiel opened his eyes again, discovering Dean was sit beside him in the floor.

"Good thing you had an air fresher," he said and Castiel smiled at him, resting his head on the seat again.

Dean patted his back gently and both were silent for a while.

"Your place is groovy," Dean said eventually.

"My place is empty," Castiel answered, with a slurred tone. Dean then mixed his previous pats with some brushes, as if he understood what Castiel was trying to say, and after yet another couple of nasty minutes and several spray releases Castiel realized the stomach ache had stopped completely.

"Do you want a cup of coffee or do you prefer tea?" he asked as if nothing had happened.

Dean, who was still patting his back, resting his own back and head in the bathroom’s wall turned his head back to Castiel and looked at him as if he was an extraterrestrial.

"Are you for real, Cas?" he said, completely astonished. "It’s 5:30 in the morning, I don’t want coffee or tea, I want you to go to sleep."

"But you’re my guest, I’ve made you come in and I’m perfectly fine-"

"Cas," Dean interrupted. "I’ve agreed on coming in because I wanted to, and ‘cause I felt you needed my help. I’m taking care of you when I say I want you to go to sleep. We will have plenty of time for coffees and teas," he added.

The weight of that statement made Castiel’s stomach move, but that new sensation had nothing to do with alcohol. “Will we?” he asked, expectant.

"I hope," Dean answered simply, triggering a new staring session for them. Castiel blushed and tried to stand up, losing the balance a little. Dean offered him his hand as a support point and once he was up, Castiel took his head with his hands, closing the eyes in pain.

“Are you okay, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked at him and made a funny face. “I’m perfectly… perfectly…” he paused and raised his right hand, as he was trying to prove a point, “PERFECTLY! fine, oh Lord Dean.” He guided himself to the mirror and watched his image there, frustrated with the result. "I will never drink again," he resolved.

"This is what we all say," Dean answered, standing up as well. “What are you doing?” he asked when he was beside Castiel.

“I will brush my teeth,” Castiel answered, proudly showing Dean what he has taken from the cabinet.

“Dude, I doubt you can brush your teeth very well using the comb,” Dean said, and opened the cabinet himself, while Castiel watched him in awe. “ _This_ is for brushing your teeth,” he said, putting the toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter by the sink. “That is for grooming your hair,” he added, pointing at the comb which was still in Castiel’s hand. “And here you have a towel,” he finished, putting one over the sink’s edge as well. Dean looked at Castiel and smiled. "Spruce yourself and get into bed. I will be outside if you need me."

Castiel nodded and Dean left him alone in the bathroom. He undressed himself (except for his boxers) and cleaned his face up, brushing his teeth (and tongue) repeatedly until the taste of whatever disgusting thing he was tasting disappeared completely out of his mouth.

Once it was over he picked up his clothes and opened the bathroom’s door, guiding himself to his bedroom. Before he could help it, he peeked to the living room and found Dean contemplating the library with interest. That made Castiel fall for yet another characteristic of Dean´s personality and kept on walking, silently.

He threw all his clothes, including the trench-coat, to the chair in his bedroom and opened one of the cabinets of his wardrobe to look for an old t-shirt to wear. He found his Kansas University one and put it on, while walking to the bed. Castiel couldn’t believe the sense of comfort he was feeling as soon as he threw on it, covering himself up. It was amazing.

In order not to fall asleep one second or another he sit on the bed and called Dean. He was at the door seconds later, smiling proudly.

"This is what I wanted," he said. "Do you feel better?"

"Way better," Castiel confirmed, and suddenly the atmosphere felt awkward between them, as if this was the first time they had talked to one another or their current positions made them feel uncomfortable. Castiel noticed that Dean was extremely nervous.

After some seconds of silence, Dean talked again. “I think I will get going, then…” he started saying.

"It’s not necessary!" Castiel said, louder than intended, and Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I mean," Castiel rephrased, getting himself nervous as well, "I have a couch. And it’s big; you surely saw it already, in the living room."

Dean laughed again and any awkward sensation they felt before was broken completely. “Are you asking me to stay over?” he teased.

Castiel blushed strongly and tried again. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just… the couch is comfortable, Balthazar has tried it multiple times and he never complained. I’ve used it too, some days, and I-“

Dean interrupted him while walking to the bed and sitting on it. “Do you want me to stay over?” he repeated.

Castiel shifted and broke eye contact with Dean, preferring to watch the blankets. “Yes,” he affirmed slowly, looking at the other guy again.

"Then I will stay," Dean decided, instantly. "As long as you ask me to."

"What if I had asked you to stay forever?" Castiel teased then, intending it as a joke. Thing was that, once the question was out of his mouth he realized it didn’t sound like one and it had taken Dean completely by surprise. Castiel covered his mouth with one of his hands, embarrassed of what his sentence has implied and with his eyes wide open. "I apologize," he said immediately, biting his lips nervously. "It was a joke, I swear. And I never joke. In fact, I don’t know what I’m doing, it was not my intention to push you, I’ve never said things like this to anyone, I’m really sorry-"

"It’s okay," Dean interrupted and took Castiel’s face with one of his hands, "and it’s crazy, ‘cause I’ve never acted like this to anyone else either, but…" he sighed, "if you had asked, I would have probably said yes, joking or not" he confessed.

Both of them snorted. Castiel noticed Dean move a little closer, and once again he accepted it, saying nothing about it.

"This whole thing is incredible. We met the first time for… what? Ten minutes? I wrote you a cheesy note ‘cause I liked your eyes or something like that and it escalated, out of control," Dean explained, his hand never leaving Castiel’s face. "I literally couldn’t stop thinking about you, Cas. Every time a customer entered I paid attention to see if it was you, even when I was overwhelmed by work. But I was always disappointed…" he paused. "Then I saw you today, and I couldn’t believe it. I’ve had a horrible day, Cas, you have no idea, but now I barely remember what had happened before I met you at the Roadhouse. It’s insane."

“What did happen to you today, Dean?” Castiel asked. “Why did you resign?”

Dean shook his head immediately, “I don’t want to talk about it, Cas. I will tell you in another time,” he said and Castiel nodded, understanding.

They stayed like that for a while, absorbed in their own thoughts, until Castiel talked again. “About what you were saying,” he started, “My brothers imposed dates on me several times, in the past, and I never even let them come in here, so I understand what you’re saying," Castiel replied. "I never thought about anyone that way beforeand in fact the mere procedure of a date stresses me incredibly. It feels extremely foreign to me, forced even. But at the same time I’ve always wanted several things that are consequences of thinking about someone else romantically to happen to me…"

"For instance?” Dean said. “What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked, firmly.

"I don’t want only a place to live, I want a home that is warmed because there are people living there, not just… staying at night," Castiel said and Dean nodded. "I want to fall in love, for real, and have a boyfriend who I can share my life with. I want for him to be eventually my partner, and then eventually my husband. I even want a pet…"

"I’m allergic to cats," Dean said.

"A dog, then," Castiel decided, and Dean agreed, nodding repeatedly. Again theysnorted. "We are ridiculous," Castiel said. And after a pause, more seriously, "At some point I’ve thought none of that would ever happen to me."

"For real?" Dean asked, and Castiel nodded. "Now it’s different?"

"Perhaps," Castiel answered.

"Do you want me to audition for the  _boyfriend_  role?” Dean asked back, making Castiel laugh. “Seriously,” he said then, “do you?”

"It depends on if you want it or not," Castiel replied.

"I do."

"So, yes."

Castiel felt his heart racing against his chest, he couldn’t believe what he has just confessed, but to be honest, he couldn’t believe anything of what had happened that night. He looked down and found Dean’s free hand in between the blankets, and took it with one of his without giving it a second thought. Dean answered closing the gap between them, to the point their foreheads were touching.

"Fuck, what a way of overstepping our boundaries in one night…" he declared, and for one moment Castiel thought Dean would kiss him.”I’m not complaining, or regretting, or anything… just… wow…"

"I would break another one, if you asked me," Castiel answered, looking at him straight in the eyes.

Dean looked at him weirdly. “I would break every one of them with you, Cas, I don’t know why-“

"I meant tonight," Castiel cleared up.

"Oh?" Dean answered, confused. "Oh!" he realized seconds later, his cheeks reddening a little. "No way, nope. You’re drunk Cas.”

“I’m not drunk!” Castiel replied, sounding offended.

“Dude, you confused the toothbrush with the comb just a couple of minutes ago,” Dean pointed out and Castiel groaned in response.

“I’m just _slightly_ drunk,” he said, stubbornly.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you like that," Dean said then, softer.

"What advantage, Dean?" Castiel asked, genuinely puzzled. "Either way, if it was a dream or not, if I was sober or drunk, kissing you would be the thing I’d wanted to do the most for weeks."

Dean cheeks got redder. “Thanks, same with me man, but I don’t want our first one to be when you won’t even remember it the next day.”

"There’s no way I would forget," Castiel said, smiling. Dean was nervous, and a nervous Dean was a cute Dean, he decided.

"And if you do?" he asked.

"You will re-tell it to me," Castiel concluded, naturally. "Or reenact it, what would be better, in my opinion," he added, with a teasing smile in his face that Dean couldn’t resist, chuckling because of it.

"Just a little one. Then you go to sleep," Dean said, furrowing his brows.

"Yes, sir, as you w-" Castiel was able to answer before Dean leant in and crushed their lips together, finally. If Castiel thought the electricity he felt all along his body when Dean touched him, even barely, was powerful, nothing could compare to what he was feeling at that moment. It was absolutely and completely magical, like every cell of his body was being filled by an energy he never had felt before, an energy that made him feel alive, for the first time ever. He turned his head a little to make the angle better and Dean took that as a sign, deepening the kiss. It was a tender battle of lips, teeth and tongues that made Castiel dizzy, even when ironically nothing else had felt more right in his life.

He completely lost track on time, and when they finally parted, looking for some air to breath, Castiel didn’t know if what passed were minutes, hours or days.

"We said it would be a small one," Dean said, smiling and still gasping for air. That made Castiel open his eyes and meet with Dean’s, with their foreheads pressed together again. Dean’s look was glowing, enamored, and Castiel wondered if Dean was thinking the same way about his.

"You weren’t really inclined to stop," Castiel answered, with a smile of his own.

"No, I wasn’t," he admitted, kissing Castiel again, with the same passion as before. "We should stop now, though. We also said it would be just one…" he added when they parted for the second time, sighing. He gave a last perk on Castiel’s lips and stood up from the bed, abandoning his personal space. Castiel already missed his touch.

"You could stay here in bed with me," Castiel tried, even when he knew that wouldn’t be happening.

"Nope, no way Cas," Dean confirmed. "I have the couch; you told me it was comfortable. And I want to do this right. Don’t you?" he added, tugging Castiel in. The touch was so gentle and meaningful that he couldn’t avoid replying with a yes, even when at that moment he didn’t even care what was right and what was wrong.

Dean fondled Castiel hair for the last time and walked to the bedroom’s door. “You have the keys at the kitchen counter, if you want to leave in the morning, or something,” Castiel said, unsure of it was a good thing to say.

"Are you kicking me out, Cas?" Dean asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"NO!" Castiel answered immediately, sitting up in the bed again. He wanted to hit himself in the face repeatedly; he knew he would fuck up somehow. "I was just implying that-"

“Cas, dude, I’m who’s joking now,” Dean interrupted and Castiel made an understanding face that made Dean laugh in response. “Anyway,” he said, “you’re offering me your keys and everything. I could be a serial killer, a ghost hunter and you wouldn’t even know.”

Castiel laughed to that. “Ellen Harvelle of all people trusted you with me, you’re friends with Johanna and Sam Winchester’s brother… clearly there is nothing wrong with you,” he declared.

Dean made a skeptical face. “You think too well about me, man,” he said.

Castiel arched his eyebrows. “You’re worthy, Dean,” he answered, finally.

Dean blushed a little after that. “You’re being delirious now. Go to sleep.” Heturned off the bedroom’s main light, but a couple of seconds had passed and he still hadn’t left the door. Castiel was nervous, clearly Dean was thinking about something to say, and he couldn’t decide how to do it. “I like you, Cas. A lot,” he finally said, and Castiel thanked all Gods and angels because if the lights were turned on at that moment the furious red in his face would be impossible to mask.

“I like you, too, Dean,” Castiel managed to say and he noticed how Dean’s silhouette was moving nervously by the door, changing his pose every two seconds. Good to know he was not the only one.

“See you tomorrow,” Dean answered after that, and left Castiel alone, trying to figure it out how all this had happened to him in just a couple of hours. He madehimself comfortable in the bed again, and closed his eyes, while hearing Dean’s noises from the living room. He was waiting for Dean to feel comfortable at the couch when sleep finally won the battle and he stopped thinking altogether.

 

 

Castiel awoke to a repetitive beep sound that came from the left side on his bed.  He groaned and tried to cover himself up with the sheets in order to shut the sound out but it continued its beeping every four or five seconds. When he realized that hiding was an ineffective solution he opened his eyes.

The sunlight already present in his bedroom invaded his vision and he felt as if his eyes were suddenly burning and his head was about to explode. The sound didn’t stop either, making the whole situation even more unbearable. Castiel hid himself in the bed again, trying to recover his ability to see and to stop the headache. When seconds later he understood it was not working in the slightest, he uncovered himself slowly, and faced his reality.

He was alone in his room, birds were singing outside and the clock above the mirror said it was two in the afternoon. Castiel didn’t remember sleeping that much since, forever. His parents would never allow him to do that, and he never took the opportunity to do it once he lived alone.

Castiel tried to remember why he was there at that time of the day, when the beep sound attacked again and he turned his head to the left. It was his cellphone, vibrating without stop on his night stand. That was the weirdest part of the whole thing, Castiel thought, his cellphone usually never vibrated like that, because he never received a lot of phone calls or messages, apart from his family, when they remembered he existed.

There was a glass of water and a couple of pills beside the cellphone, too. Castiel couldn’t understand how they made it there, he never went to the kitchen theprevious night. That night he had been to the Roadhouse, he got drunk like he never had gotten drunk in his life, and then, he fell asleep, right there, in the middle of the bar. The rest was all impossible things, the moose talking, the bees and the honey… and Dean. Dean was definitely a dream too, even when he didn’t remember half of it.

The phone vibrated again and Castiel looked at it with desperation. He took it and pressed the button to turn the screen on. “ _You have 47 messages from 3 different conversations,_ ” it said, and Castiel never felt more unguarded than at that moment. The only people that had his phone number were Charlie, Anna, Balthazar, Michael, and Johanna. And they never wrote that quantity of messages. He pressed the password and opened the app.

 

> **_Charlie Bradbury_ **
> 
> _It’s Saturday, it’s sunny and I’m going to a convention!!_
> 
> _If you got pop-culture I would invite you. Next time, perhaps…_
> 
> **10:50 pm**

 

Those were the first ones. Castiel rolled his eyes and read the next message.

 

> **_Johanna Harvelle_ **
> 
> _Hope you feel better…_
> 
> _I’m sure you feel better…_ _♥_
> 
> **11:25 am**

 

Jo had no idea how horrible he was feeling right now, Castiel thought. Then he looked at the third conversation, it came from an unknown number, and it covered most of the messages that were unread.

 

> **_+1 785 854 6985_ **
> 
> _heycas how are u doing?_
> 
> **01:15 pm**
> 
> _it’s time to wake up!!_
> 
> **01:16 pm**
> 
> _anyway. i’m out._
> 
> _i mean, i’m not leaving, don’t freak out._
> 
> _let me explain._
> 
> **01:17 pm**

And yes, Castiel really would love an explanation at that moment.

 

> _i woke up at 11 i think._
> 
> _i went to check on u, u were completely knocked out dude._
> 
> _i wonder how much u drank when i was not w/u._
> 
> **01:18 pm**
> 
> _btw, yeah, i’m dean_
> 
> _it was not a dream!!!_
> 
> _it’s time 4 u to accept that!  ;)_
> 
> **01: 19 pm**
> 
> _everything was real_
> 
> _and i hope u remember da kiss_
> 
> _u promised me u would :)_
> 
> **01:20 pm**

 

Castiel took that information as a trigger to wake up definitely. He jumped to the bed and sat on it, his heart racing in his chest as if he had run a marathon. He found breathing was really difficult suddenly, and closed his eyes, exhaling and inhaling deeply in order to control it again. None of it was unreal, all had happened, even when good things didn’t happen to him regularly. He kept on reading, once he opened his eyes again.

 

> _whatever, i didn’t want 2 wake u up_
> 
> _so ¡ took ur keys n went 2 the drugstore_
> 
> _i bought u an aleve box, and a gatorade bottle_
> 
> _when i came back 2 ur house u were still asleep_
> 
> _u look like an angel when u are asleep, tbh_
> 
> _i left everything on ur night stand,_
> 
> _take the pills w/water n drink the whole bottle then_
> 
> _it works to me like magic_
> 
> **01:22 pm**

 

Castiel blushed; he couldn’t believe this was happening to him. He looked at the night stand again and realized there was a bottle of orange Gatorade he didn’t notice before. He took the blue pills and the glass of water and swallowed them both. Then he left the glass and opened the Gatorade, drinking it while he kept on reading the rest.

 

> _bobby rang me at noon_
> 
> _poor guy, i left him alone in the garage_
> 
> _i told him i wouldn’t be working this weekend_
> 
> **01:25 pm**
> 
> _he called me an idjit_
> 
> **01:26 pm**

 

Castiel laughed at that. He remembered how Mr. Singer called him that too, when he went with his Lincoln Continental to Bobby’s repair shop for the fourth time in two months. Castiel never had a good relationship with cars, if he was completely honest.

 

> _i took your keys n left again_
> 
> _i will come back!_
> 
> _it’s just, i opened ur fridge and it’s empty dude_
> 
> _u have only ice and sausages and more ice_
> 
> _how will u be a chef w/that?!_
> 
> **01:28 pm**
> 
> _i thought, since it’s super late_
> 
> _u would like having a sturdy lunch_
> 
> _pasta sounded good 2 me_
> 
> _i went to buy some fresh spaghetti_
> 
> **01:29 pm**
> 
> _u have a cool led tv, btw_
> 
> _andi have a netflix account_
> 
> _since u have no idea what star wars is_
> 
> _we can have a marathon sit on the couch_
> 
> _(u were right, it is comfy)_
> 
> **01:33 pm**
> 
> _i’m waiting in line at the store now_
> 
> _it’s incredible how many ppl didn’t have lunch yet_
> 
> _apart from us_
> 
> **01:36 pm**

 

Castiel checked his phone; it was two and a quarter now. It meant Dean sent that more than half an hour before. He stood up and went to the kitchen, it was silent and empty, no Dean there. Castiel went to the bathroom then and looked at himself in the mirror. The image was pathetic: sleep bags, eyes half opened, hair completely out of control. He looked at the bathtub and decided that if he was really having lunch with Dean, he couldn't look like a vagrant. He left the telephone at the sink and went for it.

It took him only fifteen minutes. His excitement made him bathe in record time. Castiel dried himself and opened the bathroom door. There were still no noises at the kitchen. He closed the door again and took the telephone, reading he had nine new messages.

 

> **_+1 785 854 6985_ **
> 
> _i won’t leave this shop in ages_
> 
> **02:18 pm**
> 
> _i never told you how i got ur number btw_
> 
> _well, in fact u gave it to me_
> 
> **02:20 pm**
> 
> _the phone number i mean_
> 
> **02:21 pm**
> 
> _i’m an asshole, sorry 4 the innuendo_
> 
> **02:23 pm**
> 
> _when i left the pills at ur room i found a white paper at the floor_
> 
> _it said dean there so I took it_
> 
> _it was written i’m not married, call me and the number_
> 
> _that’s neat man. to the point. not very romantic tho._
> 
> _don’t worry, i like u anyway_
> 
> **02:25pm**

 

Castiel took his head with his free hand and shook it multiple times. Dean read the note he wrote at the office the day before. It was impossible for Castiel to be more embarrassed than that. He went out the bathroom, with the towel tied to his waist and opened the wardrobe, leaving the phone at the bed. He took a pair of jeans and a blue shirt, along with a pair of boxers and socks. He was dressing himself up when the phone vibrated again. He sat on the bed and took it.

 

> **_+1 785 854 6985_ **
> 
> _alleluia_
> 
> _i left the place!!!_
> 
> _hope you’ve woken up!_
> 
> _u will have to help me w/the sauce._
> 
> **02:35 pm**

 

Castiel smiled and left the phone. He put the socks on and took it again. He added Dean to the phone contacts, somehow he didn’t like watching just the number, it felt impersonal. Then he answered.

> _Hello, Dean._
> 
> _I’ve woken up and I had a bath._
> 
> _And I will help you, of course._
> 
> _I cannot wait._
> 
> **02:37 pm**

 

The reply didn’t come back instantly, so Castiel used his free time to make the bed. He took the cellphone, put it on his jean’s pocket, and carried all the dirty clothes he wore the day before to the washing machine, including the trench-coat. When he was adding the soap powder the phone vibrated again, more than once. Only this time, Dean’s messages caught Castiel completely off guard.

 

> **_Dean Winchester_ **
> 
> _cas, hey, look what i’ve found_
> 
> **02:45 pm**
> 
> **__ **
> 
> **02:46 pm**
> 
> _it’s a she-puppy_
> 
> _it was in a box, cas_
> 
> _i took it out of it_
> 
> _i don’t know what to do_
> 
> **02:47 pm**
> 
> _she kissed me in the face when i did_
> 
> _and moved her tail a lot_
> 
> _she likes me, cas_
> 
> **02:49 pm**
> 
> _it sounds like a sign to me_
> 
> _sammy would kill me if i brought her back to his house_
> 
> _but it sounds like a sign_
> 
> _i do believe in signs, do u?_
> 
> **02:50 pm**

 

And the thing was that yes, Castiel did believe in signs. Most of the time, in his life at least, they tended to be more negative than anything, like “ _this is a sign this job is not what I should do,”_ or, “ _this is a sign of how unimportant I’m to my family,”_ but sometimes they were positive and implied live-changing consequences. They implied taking decisions, being courageous, trying the best to change things, all in order to chase happiness.

Castiel always was a coward in regards of that. He always knew he didn’t want to be an accountant forever, and still he took the career and got the degree to please his family… who never felt completely pleased. He always accepted his brother’s dates, even when he knew they would never work and that neither of them would ever sit in a café with Castiel to ask him why. He always left Naomi and his other former bosses to lecture him even when he was the one making most of their jobs, and they never paid him a better salary because of that.

Castiel has been, to that point, rather apathetic when it came to his life, and reality told him that honestly that didn’t serve him right. He has had an unsatisfactory job, a monotonous life and tons of uncompleted dreams.

Perhaps this was not only a sign for Dean.

Perhaps this was a sign for Castiel as well.

Perhaps meeting Dean even, was the sign Castiel was desperately waiting, unspoken, in order to start changing his monotony, his dissatisfactions and his incompleteness. So, with his back against the wall he looked at his cellphone, turned on the screen again and answered.

 

> _Sorry for the late reply, Dean._
> 
> _I was washing my clothes._
> 
> _And thinking about what you’ve said in the meanwhile._
> 
> _The answer is that yes, I do believe in signs too._
> 
> **02:55 pm**
> 
> _Bring her back to my place._
> 
> _We both will take care of her._
> 
> **02:56 pm**

Castiel was shaking, he never made such a decision out of nowhere, but at the same time, nothing felt more correct to do than that. The cellphone rang as soon as the last message was announced to be sent and read.

“Cas, seriously, I didn’t say that to pressure you or anything,” Dean said once Castiel answered the phone. “I mean, I would love if that happened, but it’s not like I said this to make you say that, I hope you get what I’m trying to say, I just don’t want you to think-”

“Dean, stop,” Castiel interrupted him, gently. “I’m not telling you to bring her here out of obligation. It’s what I want.”

There were silence at the other line, and Castiel waited.

“Are you serious?” Dean asked finally.

“Of course,” Castiel answered.

“What will we give her to eat, I mean, it’s not like we could give her pasta…”

“We will cook her the sausages,” Castiel decided.

Dean laughed nervously at that, and Castiel felt his entire body reacting to it. He was wrong last night, he realized then, it was not _electricity_ what they were feeling when they were close, even when it looked like it. It was love.

“That’s good,” Dean said after a moment, clearly as affected as Castiel by the whole situation. “I’ve bought some vegetables too, for the sauce, but we could use it for her meal too?” he asked quietly, more to himself than to Castiel.

“It’s an excellent idea, Dean,” Castiel answered and he heard a couple of barks in the distance. “Is that her?” he asked.

Dean confirmed it. “She’s so pretty, Cas, you have no idea…” he said and Castiel smiled, his heart pumping frenetically.

“I cannot wait to meet her,” he replied and heard how Dean breathed nervously on the other side of the line. Sometimes words were not needed and both of them just discovered that.

“Can you feel it, Cas? The whole sense of commitment this has?” Dean queried, like a whisper.

“I do,” Castiel replied, in the same soft tone.

“Doesn’t it make you feel nervous?” Dean inquired. “It’s all so unexpected, but I feel so excited about it at the same time… I really like you Cas, and God knows I want to make it right…” he sighed and the dog barked a couple of times more. “I really don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t” Castiel answered him. “And don’t stress yourself too much, we will make it up as we go.”

 

 

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> ♥ Eventually I could write more of this verse, depending on what you think about this one. I feel like Cas and Dean in this universe have a lot of awesome stuff on their way.
> 
> ♥ This story was originally thought to be 3K (as an exaggeration) so don't ask me how it ended being such a long thing.
> 
> ♥ The puppy's image comes from [this link](http://happycolourfulsmile.blogspot.com.ar/2011/06/8-sweet-puppies-searching-for-home-in.html) (I found it googling). I have no idea which race she/he is. If someone does, please tell me (just in case I want to write something more about this verse and I need the information haha).
> 
> ♥ Songs mentioned in this fic: [Green Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmyq9tIiu8g) by Coldplay, [Blue Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CiyKeSnSxk) by Elton John, [Trench Coat Angel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zd70pcFeKxo) by Tyler Ward.


End file.
